Verminous Valor
by Turdburgular
Summary: Honor is sometimes found in the unlikeliest of places. There are times in war where we cannot choose our allies, but we can choose whether or not we turn them into enemies. Gabriel is struggling to rebuild his family from the ashes of THAT night, four winters past. He shall call upon the help of a few old friends, and one or two unlikely ones. (Prologue 3 chapters) Reviews please.
**Verminous Valor**

Part I of the _Lucas Trilogy_

By: Aukai Arkus

 **Prologue:**

The sheds burning roof collapsed. A crash mimicking the report of an imperial cannon thundered through the countryside. Great plumes of billowing smoke littered the evening sky, masking its serenity in an ashen haze. The occasional twinkle of a witnessing star could be seen between the gaseous ribbons as they coiled and dissipated. Silently, the stars watched the events of that terrible night unfold in fire and pain.

Silent and sorrowful.

Hanz fought for breath. He tried desperately to suppress a cough as he choked on a foul mixture of smoke and terror. Sweat cascaded down his flush face, dropping onto the meat-cleaver clutched in his palm with an angry sizzle. The surrounding flames licked at his skin and singed the hairs on his arm. He leaned against the pantry door and struggled to steady his nerves. He hadn't much time; this house was coming down. The sudden shattering of a window sent him to a crouch. He peeked around the doorway.

 _They were in his home._

The intruder, sprawled out amongst the heated floorboards and broken glass, was draped in a soiled, black-hooded robe. It flexed its spine upward, rearing its head back onto a slant and straining its neck towards the roof. Hanz noted a dark, fur-covered muzzle sniffing the air. Several whiskers twitched as the creatures lips peeled back, revealing a row of yellowish, grime-caked fangs.

"Skaven?" he murmured. "Here?"

Its nose seemed to pilfer through the acrid fumes of immolation in search of a certain scent. In search of its target.

 _At least there is only one. I can handle one._

Hanz mustered the little courage that remained in his petrified body.

 _Now is my chance! While the numbers are still equal._

He offered a brief prayer to Sigmar, his man-god deity, before lunging from his hiding spot at the cloaked figure, cutlery waving frantically above his head.

"Die, monster!" he spewed through gridlocked teeth. "I send you and these flames back to the hell that spawned you!"

Hanz rocketed the cleaver down onto to the creature's motionless head, unable to react in time. He felt its metallic edge bite home with a heavy thud. He breathed a small sigh of relief. At least that's one less demon on his land.

His respite was short-lived however, for no sooner did he attempt to wrench the weapon free that the once solid target of his attack fell limp within its robes. The knife fumbled from his stunned grasp and clanked on the mahogany floor. Where once crouched the intruder, lay only a pile of fuming rags. Tendrils of foul-smelling darkness slithered from the creature's clothes and around the frightened man's body. A twisted mix of absolute-black and sickly-green sheened against flames like the scales of a chaos serpent, blotting the streams of dark magic that began to enter the man's nostrils. Hanz felt a sudden rush of lethargy bloat his muscles. His tabard felt heavy, his feet felt sluggish. His breathing came in hard, labored sips.

He was so tired. The room began to spin. A warm sensation began to build in his stomach; it felt rather pleasant. He held his belly and massaged the welling of soothing heat that now coated his hands. He looked down to see the jeweled eyes of an ebony skull glint as the encroaching blaze flared. Those tiny priceless eyes seemed to wink at him from their place on the hilt, as the wicked dagger that pierced his gut from his spine twisted, ripping innards and inertia from his being.

He never knew his blood was so warm.

He slumped to his knees as his vision blurred. Nothing but murmured tones replaced the hissing breaths that poured from the grinning, yellow smile above his left ear. The monster had already fully re-formed at his rear.

"Fool-fool you are, witless man-thing!" its voice maintaining a low, intimate tone as it whiskers slid along the nape of Hanz' neck.

"None can kill-kill the mighty Soulthief Sliverfang, of Clan Kondemn."

The crash of splintering wood snatched Sliverfang's attention from his victim. The others had entered only moments ago, just as he had stuck the powerless human, and had already made a great mess of things. He hated being disturbed during a kill. It made it quite hard to savor the moment.

"Silence, mice-meat!" he shrieked at the others as they ransacked the entire lower quarters. "This one yet bleeds. Its final heart beats are mine-mine to enjoy!"

The other three creatures, well aware of the risk for upsetting a Soulthief, dropped what objects were in their grasps and slowly began to back away from the room, carefully avoiding the fires that began to roar out of control.

"Keep searching!" boomed the challenging rasp of a fourth figure, standing in the archway where there was once a front door. "This mission will not be slow-stopped by the likes of you, Sliverfang runt-snatcher. Remember who hold-holds rank here."

Sliverfang's eyes scanned this newest addition to the room with scrutinizing rage. As easy as it would be to kill him, the death of Warpsage Meekmange would do nothing but anger the Master of clan Skryre, and even worse, his own.

"Of course, Sage-master Meekmange." Sliverfang bowed as he tore his dagger from Hanz' back, allowing the fading human to fall forward into a pool of his own blood. "Please, continue your search…while I continue mine."

Hanz' face met the floor without buffer. He cried out for _them_ , but his words formed in silence. He was dying. He was a failure. He was so very tired. His heart turned cold, and his world turned black.

Sliverfang let the blade fall towards the floor, pulling taught a thin chain that was coiled around his wrist and connected to the weapons handle. He swung it as his side twice, flinging the gore from its edge into the fires at his flanks. He huffed in one more deep breath before lunging towards the steps that lead to the second floor. Soon the scrap-mongers of Clan Skryre would find their prize. It was time that he took his.

"Where are you going, Sliverfang!?" Meekmange demanded.

"The human is dead-dead" Sliverfang dismissed the commanding insolence of the Warpsage with each step he took towards that tantalizing scent. "Quick-quick" he answered. "Find your man-thing trinkets and go back-back."

His snout sucked in another breath. Shivers ran up and down his body. Heavy salivation turned to foam at the corners of his mouth as he climbed the stairs on all fours, his tail whipping from side to side in anticipation. He was in the hallway now, staring towards the last door at the end of the corridor. The inferno that all but dominated the first floor had just begun to ascend towards this section of the house. Smoke carpeted the ceiling as roiling cedar whined and cracked in the furnace below. He was so close, he could taste it. Shivers of lewd excitement bristled his fur as he reached for the handle.

She clasped her hands over the mouths of the two struggling children. Their tears flowed over her knuckles, and hers streamed down her cheeks. Hanz was dead, they were stuck in a linen closet, and the same death lingered on the other side of this door. She watched in horror as the doorknob began to turn. She closed her eyes and prayed to Sigmar to deliver them from this evil. She knew her whispers fell on deaf ears.

"Lord Sliverfang!" a sharp squeak nearly made her cry out in terror. "Warpsage Meekmange commands you to leave-leave with us. This man-thing burrow is not going to stand-stand much longer."

Sliverfang screeched in frustration. It was true. They allowed the fire to grow too wild, now there was no time for him to claim his spoils and retreat back down the stairs before they were engulfed. He released the handle and reluctantly swayed down the hall, footsteps trailing off into the crackling sounds of flames at feast.

She waited several moments before daring to breathe.

 _Thank you, Lord Sigmar!_

Now was her chance to escape. She released her hold on her children's mouths. She brought one index finger to her lips, a following hush indicating her trust in their own ability to remain quiet. The plan was simple: make for the bedroom window across the hall. She pressed one eye firmly against the keyhole to ensure the creature had gone.

"Mummy, how are we going to escape?" her son quietly asked.

All seemed clear.

"Mum" he pulled at her sleeve as she switched to the other eye. "Won't they be waiting downstairs?"

The smoke began to creep in beneath the door. She rubbed her eyes and looked at her son, cradling her precious baby daughter.

"Well, my brave son" she announced with pride. "It seems the _scary_ monster underestimated the usefulness of a window". Her son tightened his grip around his infant sister and nodded, ready to do what was needed to protect her.

She grabbed his hand and glanced one last time through the keyhole, this time coming eye-to-eye with a black, mucous-lined pupil that dilated upon sight.

"No-no, foolish breeder" came a lustful purr from the other end. "Sliverfang did not!"

 **Part one:**

 _Bedtime stories._

Gabriel slammed the book shut with a terrific roar, lurching toward the two children with his hands in a clawed poise. The little girl immediately darted beneath the covers, but her brother seemed less than startled at their father's theatric interpretation of the story's climax.

 _Fearless and strong; just like his mother._

"Didn't scare you in the least?" Gabriel cleared his throat, suddenly a bit sheepish. The boy simply stared. Gabriel had read this story to his children countless times. This was the first time that 'silence' became either of their responses.

"You scared ME, papa" a tiny, muffled voice whimpered from beneath the blankets.

Gabriel placed his hands on the quivering ball of linens and released a flurry of playful pokes and prods that betrayed his fingers gnarled appearance. The bright, giggling face of Gabriel's precious daughter erupted from the sheets amidst a chorus of squeaking laughs.

"Oh, you're scared are you?" Gabriel teased before scooping the thrashing child up in his strong protective arms, nestling her deep within his firm chest. His daughter stretched her open embrace around his neck, barely able to connect her tiny finger behind his head.

"Don't worry, my angel" he whispered into her ear. "It's just a story."

He gently placed her back into bed and tucked the covers firmly around her frail shoulders. She grabbed her favorite plush mouse and looked up at him with admiration. Her icy, sapphire eyes cooled the flames of painful memories long past. Bright, fiery locks of hair splayed playfully down her ivory portrait. She smiled. Gabriel's heart took its first beat for the thousandth time.

 _Pure and perfect; just like her mother._

"You just hold on to Mr. Sqweeks" Gabriel placed his palm on her hands that were tightly folded around the doll. "He'll protect you from the scary stories."

"Yea, it's just a story" Marcus huffed. "Stop being such a baby"

"I'm not a baby" Maria pouted, looking down and tucking her little arms across her chest.

"Marcus" Gabriel scolded. "Don't tease your sister. It isn't brotherly of you."

Marcus' eyes widened at his father's scowl. The tension in his little face soon melted into remorse. He draped an arm around his little sister and pulled her close.

"I'm sorry, papa" he whispered. "That story just makes me so angry."

"Why angry?" asked curiously.

"Because the monsters win" he looked up defiantly. "The monsters win, and no one saves the people!"

Gabriel was taken aback at the conviction in his son's voice. Pride swelled in his chest as he clasped one hand on the boys head.

"Then you must grow up strong, and mind your studies" Gabriel smiled. "So should anything like this ever happen, the people will have you to save them."

Marcus answered with a silent nod. Gabriel smiled to himself.

 _Foolhardy and determined; just like…his father._

"Ok" Gabriel announced with a clap. "Story time is over. Time for bed"

Marcus and Maria leaned back into their beds and gripped each one of their father's hands, joining their own soon after.

"Marcus, why don't you lead us?" Gabriel appointed more than asked. A slight grumble escaped Marcus' lips before he could bow his head and shut his eyes, avoiding his father's reproving glare. He cleared his throat and began to recite their nightly prayer, Maria and Gabriel repeating in turn:

"Sigmar praised, please bless this day. Our faith to never break or stray."

"Sigmar praised, please bless these lands. Our strength to guard it with these hands."

"Sigmar praised, please bless us here. Our courage true and without fear."

"Sigmar please, bless one more thing: Our lives for you, our God, our King"

Gabriel smiled approvingly at his son before releasing their hands and standing up. He bent down and softly kissed Maria's forehead and moved to do the same to Marcus before pausing. He looked deep into his son's stalwart, amber gaze, as if searching for the boy who was once his delicate child. Once satisfied that such a boy had faded from world, he reached out his hand and beckoned to his son. Marcus stared hesitantly for a few moments before locking arms with his fathers, the same way he had seen done with Otto and Kyle in the past.

Gabriel chewed down a smile and maintained his authoritative composure.

 _They grow so fast._

He made his way to the single lantern by the door, adjusting the flame to all but extinguish in its encasing. He picked it up and placed it on the table outside their room, its feint glow barely creeping through the doorway.

"Father" he heard Marcus' voice call to him as he began to creek the door to its place, leaving just enough room for the hallway light to whisk away their bad dreams.

"Yes?" Gabriel popped his head through the space in the door.

"I will, you know?" answered Marcus.

Gabriel dawned a befuddled look. "You will _what_ , boy?"

"I will grow up to be strong" Marcus said stoically. "I will become strong enough to save everyone, and kill all the monsters in the world. Even if it IS just a story."

"I'm sure you will, Marcus." Gabriel quietly thanked Sigmar for blessing him with such amazing children. "I'm sure you will."

He looked them over one last time before walking out into the hallway. The lantern at his back twisted the shadows that perched along the corridor. They warped and rippled as the low flame danced behind him. Sweat began to bead on his face despite the cold evening winds.

 _Just a story…just a story._

The sun crested the rolling green hills, painting the sky with an amber glow that chased away the remnants of night. The stars faded into the azure embrace of a new dawn. Endless fields of lush greenery shook the dew from their slumbering leaves, joyfully dancing to life as the final chilling breath of evening rushed throughout their limbs. Gabriel was tending to the various chores of a farmers life long before the lights in his house could be seen. Sleep was not something that came easy to him. Nor did it come cheap.

He opened the doors to the stables. The soft whinnying of his many fine steeds greeted him with the anticipation of their morning meal. He made his way through the stalls, fastening a fresh bag of feed to each trough, pausing at the ebony bulk of Skarsbright, his faithful mount and dearest friend through the many years of his past service. The horse's deep, worn eyes met his with a silent understanding. He had not slept well either.

He stroked Skarsbright's long muscular neck, running his coarse fingers through his auburn mane. Skarsbright gently nudged against his master's chest, sharing the painful images that played in both their minds. Gabriel's hands tightened around his reigns as their memories linked. It has been four winter's since he had felt the fires of _that_ night singe his heart.

Since _she_ was taken from him.

"Keep it together, old boy" Gabriel murmured to himself. "Now's not the time to be losing yourself."

"I agree" a voice called from the open doorway. "Lynch will be here soon". He turned and met the concerned face of Kyle, one of his farmhands.

"Otto's tending to the cart" said Kyle. "We should be able to stick to the schedule as long as that bastard Eric keeps to the time."

Gabriel patted Skarsbright on his chest one last time and headed towards the door, giving the rest of the feed bags over to Kyle.

"Finish seeing to the horses. I'll wait for Lynch at the gate." Kyle's hand gripped Gabriel's shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

"Are you sure you don't want to sit this one out, Gabriel?" Kyle asked.

"I'm fine, old friend" Gabriel was quick to answer. "Just shaking the morning chill from these old bones."

Kyle nodded and watched him head towards the road. He cursed himself with tear-filled eyes. Not a day goes by he doesn't see the ice in Gabriel's once warm smile. And not a day goes by he doesn't regret not being able to have done more on _that_ night, four winters past.

The adolescent morning blossomed into vibrant maturity. Otto had finished preparing the cart and headed into the house for breakfast with Kyle. Gabriel stood at the gate of the wooden fence that surrounded his land, noting the cooking smoke from his home descend upward in steady, white puffs.

Eric was late.

Gabriel loathed hiring Eric Lynch and his band of godless vagrants. But with the countryside being so vast, and the Empires forces spread as thinly as they were, one had little alternative but to resort to the services of a sell-sword. A rising bowl of trampled dirt brought his eyes to the eastern horizon, squinting to confirm the arrival of his hired vanguard. He furled his brow and inquisitively scratched at the stubble on his chin. He thought of the day when he would no longer need to rely on mercenaries like Eric, and lamented that it would not be soon enough.

The resounding gallop of hooves sent Otto and Kyle dashing out the door and to their master's side. Gabriel addressed their obviously agitated state.

"Steady lads, we still have a job for him to do". Otto and Kyle looked to their employer in protest, but found solace in his composure and eased the tension from their shoulders. They trusted in his judgment before without being led astray, and loyalty challenged doubt.

Eric led his envoy through the wooden posts and into Gabriel's greeting area with the usual pompous demeanor, barely slowing his horses speed to an abrasive trot. He and his troupe trampled straight up to the three men, ignoring the curved stone walkway that would've spared the delicate carnations that now lay asunder behind the hooves of careless riders. Gabriel could feel the caution begin to rise within his trusted companions again, and rightfully so. You could only trust a mercenary as far as your coin can stretch. Should they find someone with a deeper purse, yours will cease to hold weight. Gabriel always prepared for Lenshur's arrival as such, and was equally ready to meet him with either the contract they've agreed upon, or a sword to sever it.

"Ahhh, Herr Montere!" Eric's voice screeched as his horse came to a halt and he swept his wide-brimmed hat into an exaggerated bow. "Sigmar's blessing upon you this fine day!" Several of his men circled around the cart that Otto had finished preparing earlier that morning. The dozen or so finely groomed steeds that were lashed to a central line behind it neighed nervously as one such ruffian paused to admire their breeding. Otto gritted his teeth protectively.

"Hands off the merchandise" Otto issued in a low, threatening tone. The mercenary answered with a daunting semi-toothless grin and the roiling eyes of reckless violence.

"Jus checkin what we'z gettin paid to protect, lad" the man emphasized his words with a swift heave of a sturdy, one-handed hatchet, bringing it to a controlled rest over one shoulder. Otto and Kyle's hands fell towards their scabbards.

"That'll do" Gabriel reprimanded, immediately pacifying the three. "You are late, Herr Lynch. It is only natural that our patience has worn thin with waiting." Another embellished bow nearly brought Eric's head down to the saddle he still rode upon.

"A thousand apologies, my good friend. Lately, the life of a famous merchant has me riding to every corner of the empire to answer the call of business."

"Merchant!?" Kyle guffawed. "That what you types are calling yourselves nowadays?"

Eric's arrogant smirk vanished with the blurred draw of a pistol, aiming straight at Kyle's head within a heartbeat. Kyle stared back, unflinching.

"You seemed to have mastered the proper binding and control of your magnificent horses, Herr Montere" Eric's leer slowly returned to his sharp face. "You should learn to do the same with your dogs."

The crash of Gabriel's front door severed the tension surrounding their meeting. The padding echo of rushing feet sent Gabriel's heart rocketing into his throat. He turned to see Maria's tear streaked face leading a desperate charge across the courtyard.

 _Damn you, Eric! We were supposed to have been gone by now!_

"Papa, don't leave!" she wailed and lunged into Gabriel's open arms, his tunic soon drowning her panicked cries into muffled sobs.

"Don't worry, my angel" he combed his hand through her mess of ginger locks. "I'll be back before you know it." Lisa, one of his house-hands, came rushing after the frantic child.

"I'm so sorry, sir" she apologized while she pried the clinging child from her father's tabard. "I looked away for only a moment and she had…"

Gabriel's firm, disappointed glare cut her explanation short. He looked over Lisa's shoulder and saw Marcus standing in the doorway. His scowl softened.

"Lisa, please take her and Marcus back inside immediately." He gave her Maria's hand that was still clutched in his palm. Maria began to thrash and stretch out towards her father.

"Now, my angel" he stroked the sodden hair from her porcelain cheek. "Be good while I'm gone, and listen to Lisa and your brother." She gave him a hesitant but compliant nod. "If at any time you are in need of me, close your eyes and say your prayers." He watched Lisa lead Maria back towards the farmstead.

"Well well, Monte you old dog" Eric's voice slithered up his spine. "What a beautiful young lass you've reared." Gabriel turned to meet his poisonous words with a vengeance. "And to think you've hidden her from me this entire time." Otto and Kyle simultaneously tore their swords from their scabbards with a deadly melody.

"You lecherous pig!" Kyle cursed. "One more word and I'll skewer you where you sit!"

It was no secret that Eric Lynch had been accused of selling more than 'protection.' One with loyalty to the coin didn't have the moral conundrums that honorable men did, especially when it came to 'trading' certain forbidden goods.

"Oh quit your braying, farm-boy." Eric waved away the threat dismissively. "The girl doesn't interest me in the slightest…still too young." The subsequent laughter from his entourage nearly careened Gabriel's men into a bloody reprisal.

"Enough!" Gabriel barked with military gusto. "Otto, tend to the cart and reigns. Make sure all is tightly secured." Otto nodded his understanding and leapt away. "Kyle, fetch my belt and pack. Gabriel turned to stare down Eric as his men adhered to his orders. He was going to wait till their safe return to his home before doing this, but this offense could not be tolerated.

"Herr Lynch!" he stated with a near hostile tone. "I regret to inform you that after this transaction of ours is complete, I will no longer require your services!"

Eric seemed eerily unoffended by the sudden shortening of his contract.

"As you wish, Herr Montere" his voice was drawn with indifferent sarcasm.

"As per our original arrangement, I will pay you severance for breaking our agreement preemptively."

Eric nodded mockingly, as if dozing off. "Fine-fine, good-good" he rebuked. "Now, if you're quite done firing me before you can afford to fire me; I'd like to complete my final task for you before the next harvest moon."

Kyle had just returned and leaned in to his master's side, keeping his voice to a dull murmur.

"Are you sure you want to go this one alone? I don't trust that snake any more than a skaven sewer swimmer."

"Be at ease, my friend. Do you think a paltry dozen thugs could overwhelm your captain?"

Kyle's eyes fell sheepishly to his feet. Gabriel cupped the back of his neck and brought his cheek to his. "Besides, I need you and Otto here to watch over my family. Now that Eric knows of this being our final venture together, I fear he won't settle for his usual pay."

They clasped each other's forearms in the traditional Imperial army fashion.  
"Ahem!" Eric chirped. "Captain, if you please."

With a final nod to his former Lieutenant, Gabriel mounted Skarsbright. Lynch's men formed their routine protective barrier around Gabriel's stock and began to move towards the main road. Gabriel looked back towards the farmstead just as he reached the gate. Lisa was standing in the doorway behind Maria and Marcus. Maria buried her head into Marcus' shirt. Marcus simply watched their father's procession disembark with stern, cold eyes.

"Don't let your sister out of your sight, Marcus" Gabriel shouted just as they turned West. "It wouldn't be brotherly of you."

Marcus gave no noticeable reply save draping his arm around Maria's quaking shoulders, just as Eric rode up beside Gabriel.

"Don't worry, Monte" he hissed with perverse cynicism. "We'll have you back to your precious children in no time."

"So we shall" Gabriel's tone iced the air like a winter chill. "And should you ever speak of my family again, I will run my sword through that fleshy void where your heart should be."

The rest of the day passed without significance. Maria sat alone at the dining room table, prodding her meal with disinterest.

"Please finish your supper, sweetheart" Lisa pled. "I can't give you a sweet roll until you've eaten a proper meal." Maria continued to pout and resist. Lisa looked to Adeline for help.

Adeline, referred to as 'Ade' by the rest on the farm, was the other house-hand and wet-nurse. Older and of a darker complexion, she had been with the Montere family since Marcus was still inside his mother's belly. With the addition of Lisa two years ago to help with the routine housework, Ade had taken the on primary role of surrogate mother and disciplinary figure, and not only with the children

She stared idly out the window, observing the fading twilight with concern. Lines of endless worry creased the wells around her ageless eyes. A single braid of jet black hair hung from the edge of her floral embroidered head wrap, resting just beside her left eye. A steady scan amongst the surrounding brush betrayed no movement beyond nature's pulse.

"Ade, I could use your help please?" Lisa's voice began to grow weary. Maria had gone from silent protest to active objection, knocking her bowl off the table.

"How much longer are those two going to keep that boy?" Ade finally spoke.

"I've never known them to keep him so late into the evening" Lisa agreed. "If they don't lighten up on him, they're going to kill that poor child."

Ade's teeth clenched behind her taught lips. She knew as much as Kyle and Otto that Marcus needed the training, but what if Lisa was right? What if it was too much too soon? She fingered the ivory necklace tucked beneath her collar. It seared her skin with a wistful kiss. She winced at the heat pressing against her chest. A heat that reminded her much of _that_ night, four winters past.

Maria sought to break the stillness, but Ade was quicker and seemed to anticipate her cry.

"Maria, excuse yourself from the table and head upstairs for a bath. Help yourself to one sweet roll on your way." Maria's mournful pout turned to a smile. "Lisa, leave the dishes and draw the water for her bath please."

Lisa quietly nodded and followed the excited shuffle of Maria's tiny feet up the stairs.

Ade returned her full attention to the scene beyond the frosted window pane. The sun steadily descended below a sea of ashen clouds, their flashing heartbeat rumbling closer at a frantic pace. Ade's hands began to tremble. This was no ordinary storm. This was the foreshadow of misery. The announcement of death. She had seen a tempest like this brew once before in her many years, and it took much more than the mornings light to clear the darkness from its wake. She turned towards the stairs and gathered her thoughts. It seems the Montere family is to find themselves in the eye of such a storm yet again, and she'll be damned if she wasn't prepared this time.

Otto barely slowed the blunt end of his wooden sword, hooking Marcus' heal instead of severing his hamstring. He torqued the blade upward, causing the boy to nearly double over on into the dirt. Otto smirked at Marcus' demonstration of balance and followed with a swift kick to the boys back, succeeding where his strike had failed. Marcus reeled into the bushes.

"Easy, Otto!" Kyle called from his perch upon a nearby stump, turning his head to jettison a large globule of blackened spittle from his swollen cheek. He shifted the wad of tobacco from one side of his mouth to the other.

"Ade'll stripe our backsides if we bring that boy back with a broken spine!" Otto barely registered his cohorts warning, scanning the foliage for movement.

"Damn kid's snaking around the weeds again!" his grunts betraying his frustration. "Did you teach em to use the brush? Spends more time squirming on his belly then fightin on his feet!"

Kyle chuckled, hopping from his stump and shifting slowly to his right, one wary eye on what he thought was a rustle.

"You're four times his size, ya oaf" kyle taunted, but was cut short by the sudden dance of trembling leaves. Otto grinned with success.

"Got ya!" he hurled his training weapon into the center of the commotion, anticipating the squeak of contact from his target. Instead he was met with the tiny roar of Marcus' charging frame, bursting clear from the thicket, wildly swinging both oaken sabres. Otto stumbled back, unsure of how he could've missed hitting the child square in the chest. Kyle's eyes widened excitedly.

 _This boy was learning faster than he ever imagined._

"Fear not, Herr Otto!" Marcus exclaimed, rapidly closing the gap between mentor and student. "Your aim remains as impeccable as ever. Pity your mark this time was a rock that I had kicked over at my side!" Marcus seemed to smile, almost triumphantly as he slashed both swords in at Otto's sides, aiming straight for his ribs. Otto had never before been forced to make an actual timed counter against the boy. Kyle gawked at the scene that played out before him. The answer was simple enough, he was just surprised that such a young boy had forced a reaction out of his seasoned comrade. In place of attempting to step back beyond the boys reach, Otto took a small step toward him. The hilts of each blade thudded dully against Otto's hips, around the same time Marcus' face careened into his rather stout belly, a muffled cry of alarm struggled against the man's tunic.

"A bit soon for trash-talking, eh?" Otto bellowed as he wrapped his muscular arms around the boy's wiry frame. With not so much as a huff, he lifted Marcus into the air and began to tighten his grip. Marcus' feet thrashed wildly in the air as grunts turned to gasps. He felt as if his ribs would shatter. Both wooden swords fell from his limp hands, and darkness began to circle his sight. Otto brought Marcus' face squarely in front of his.

"Consider this tonight's lesson, boy" Otto calmly stated, holding his constricting embrace just shy of bone-crushing. "The fight isn't over until they're dead and you're gone. If you've got time to talk, you've already lost." He pulsed his grasp as if to slam his point home, sending a squeak from Marcus that nearly caused Kyle's intervention, had Marcus not used the close proximity to cock his head back and smash it into Otto's already disfigured nose. Otto's arms slackened and Marcus fell like a sack of Wet-Root, gasping hungrily while clutching his throbbing sides. Otto growled in frustration, holding the crimson flow from his nose with one hand and rocketing the other down towards the boy. A quick roll had brought Marcus several paces from the cratering fist, and with one of the training weapons in his hand. Otto did not pursue. Realizing what he had just done, the boy threw his wooden sword to the ground and bowed apologetically.

"Please forgive me, master Otto!" Marcus' labored breaths rapidly matured to hyperventilation. "I..I..I…I've no idea what came over me!"

Otto's cold gaze snapped the boys quivering tongue back into his dry mouth. Being crushed in his giant arms seemed so much more inviting then suffering under his glare.

"Oh, I know EXACTLY what came over ya, boy". Otto shifted his blood-soaked fist with an audible crack, realigning his nose for the umpteenth time. He dropped his hand, revealing a red-stained grin that confused Marcus as much as it surprised him. He quivered at the thought of what punishment was brewing behind such a smile. Otto closed the gap to Marcus with three, lumbering steps. He glowered down at the terrified child, resting one huge, meaty fist on the boy's trembling shoulder. He leaned into Marcus' ear.

"The will to survive" Otto's whisper nearly stopped Marcus' thundering heart.

Kyle applauded vigorously. "Good show, Marcus!" He strolled over to his equally impressed comrade, who immediately joined Kyle in praise of the boy's performance.

"Well done, lad." Otto's hardened face softened. "That was the right move there; breaking me sniffa!" Kyle nodded in full agreement. Marcus nearly doubled over I confusion.

"Don't ye be frettin about it, lad!" Otto burst into laughter. "Not but the thousandth time it's been snapped!"

"And it looks worse each time, if you ask me" Kyle interjected.

"Well we ain't askin ya" Otto snarled. "Now git home afore Ade realizes how long we've kept ya" he pointed towards the trail heading back.

Marcus nodded, still trying to process what had just happened, and ran towards the farmstead, turning on his heels as he reached the end of the clearing.

"Thank you for the lesson, Herr Kyle and Herr Otto" executing a long bow.

"Enough with that, lad" Otto waved dismissively. "Off wit ya!" Both of their gazes followed Marcus as he ran along the trail and disappeared over a small hill.

"Learning quick, that one is" Otto said out the side of his mouth. Kyle gave a slight nod, looking down to spit.

"Aye. You remember when you were his age? Still shitting your drawers and picking your nose…the same one he just broke" he slapped Otto on the back. Otto answered with a lighting fast hook to Kyle's jaw, barely glancing off his mark as Kyle leapt back, fists ready.

"Izzat right!?" Otto leapt after him.

The darkness began to lift. Blackness turned to blurs, which in turn gave way to burning. Hanz reeled from unconsciousness, waking in agony as torrid streams of smoke forced their way into every orifice on his face. He rolled onto his hands and knees, squealing as his throat swelled with ash and blood. A brilliant shade of red was the first color to materialize out of his recovering sight. It was blood. As if seeking to remind him, the still oozing puncture in his stomach screamed with anger at being ignored. Hanz nearly passed out again from the sudden rush of pain. A quick lurch sent a stream of blood from his mouth, adding another coat to the stained woodwork. Well, at least he could breathe a little better now. A piercing scream of his family numbed his wound and cleared his mind. He jumped to his feet and dashed towards what was left of the engulfed staircase, leaping and ducking as his home collapsed around him.

He arrived at the top of the stairs just in time to see his darling wife drop to her knees, tears streaking down her face. The cloaked monster tore his jeweled dagger from her rib cage, allowing her limp form to fall, her gaze never leaving his. He could barely make out the motionless form of his son at her side. Hanz roared with pain so intensely, that the creature shrieked as it spun to see the man it thought it had killed dashing towards him, his howl growing with his pace. And just as quick as he had attacked, Hanz froze before closing the gap. Sliverfang dangled his baby daughter out in front of him by the leg, slowly swaying her back and forth. The child's cries converted Hanz' hatred to fear. He dropped to his knees with his arms beckoning to the Soulthief.

"Please!" he began to plea. "Do what you will to me, but please don't kill my little girl". The ratman hissed in delight. "Kill-kill this runtling?" Sliverfang inquired. "No-no, foolish man-thing. Lord Sliverfang isn't here to kill-kill runtling. Lord Sliverfang is here to take-take her!" With blinding speed, the skaven brought one of its clawed feet into the air above Hanz, swiping it down into the back of his head, smashing his face into the pool of blood that had blossomed from his wife's corpse. Almost simultaneously, the door from another room flew open, revealing the screaming figure of Hanz' oldest son rocketing towards his father's attacker. The 10-year old boy, no taller than the creature' waist, impacted the monster with such force that he dropped the suspended infant as they both careened through a window, disappearing into the shrieking darkness.

Hanz barely outstretched his arms in time to catch the child. He brought his only daughter into his chest, all remaining strength draining from his body. He covered the child with his tabard, trying to hush her cries as the flames grew closer all around. He stared deeply into the sapphire pools of his beloved' once lively eyes, now forever still and hollow. Tears began to take his sight before death could. His entire family gone, and he could do nothing to stop it. He was a failure. He reached one hand towards that of his wife, weaving his finger through hers, never leaving her gaze.

"Forgive me, my darling…" With that, he allowed his mind to fade. He began to hear distant, familiar voices, calling out to him from beyond the darkness...

 _Captain! Captain!_

A small feeling of peace came over him as the calls grew louder. It was his fallen brothers, and they were welcoming him into the kingdom of Sigmar.

 **Part 2:**

 _A storms a coming.._

Gabriel awoke with his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. The sweat covering his face glistened against the moonlight. His breathing was on the verge of hyperventilation, and he could taste the metallic tinge of blood as he attempted to wet his throat. He winced as he opened his stiff jaw, and began to prod his teeth with his index finger. Most people believe that waking up after a night of too much ale would ruin your morning. They have never ground their teeth the way Gabriel did.

"Ya know ya talk while ye sleep?" a gruff voice called from a nearby fire. "First growlin, then whimperin". Gabriel studied the man, who was sitting around the fire with one of his comrades. He was a short but stout fellow, with a broad shoulder width and prominent belly. He sported a rather accomplished mustache and wore his hair tied up in a knot. His dark eyes were neither welcoming nor cold.

"Watching me while I sleep?" Gabriel replied. "Because THAT isn't unnerving". The man raised an angry eyebrow, but was cut short of firing back when the man sitting next to him released a short whistle followed by a mild smirk at his partner's agitation. This one was a great deal larger than the first, or any man Gabriel has met in his travels. Easily as tall as a small Oak, and probably just as heavy, he had a much more inviting face despite the many scars that marred it. His bald head was decorated with a rather intricate tattoo, and his eyes were blue and oddly gentle. He looked at Gabriel and offered a brief smile, revealing the many gaps in his teeth before the short one scoffed at him.

"What are ye grinning at, ye oaf?" he grunted before turning his irritation back to Gabriel. "And the only reason we was watchin was cuz that's what we was hired to do, but if I had to listen to ye rustling much longer, I'd get fired on account of buryin me hatchet in yer head!" his voice became noticeably more hostile. "End yer sad little nightmare real quick".

"I apologize" Gabriel stood up and executed a short bow. "Was not my intention to offend. My name is Gabriel, and I thank you both for your vigilance." The short man grunted and spit into the fire, returning his attention to prodding it with a stick. The larger man just smiled and waved.

"Well' Gabriel finally spoke, realizing he wasn't going to get their names. "Nature calls. I'll let you both get back to your watch." With that he walked out of the glow of the fire and into the brush in search a quit place to relieve himself. He scanned the surrounding tree line as he finished, noting a rather unsettling silence. Not the chirp of a cricket nor the rustle of a mouse could be heard. He looked up at morrslieb, its greenish hue rapidly fading as it began to slip behind a thick blanket of clouds. Now it was deafening silent and dark as pitch.

 _This must be what death feels like._

The feint feeling of breath on his neck brought him reeling around and tearing his sword from its sheath, immediately intercepting some type of claw-like weapon inches from his neck and causing sparks to fly. They illuminated the tiniest portion of his attackers face, but it was mostly concealed by a black hood. The assailant leaned heavily on their interlocking weapons, trying to overcome Gabriel with sheer power. Gabriel could make out the feint smell of rot-root, a powerful and rare herb that is occasionally used to make a paralytic paste and applied to blades.

 _This was no amateur._

"Who the hell are you!?" Gabriel demanded, matching the attackers force behind his sword, making sure not to allow his enemies weapon to be easily freed. "Who sent you!?" Gabriel was answered only with a coarse growl and a doubled effort to puncture his shoulder. Gabriel realized that if he wasn't an amateur, he wasn't going to talk. Whoever this assassin worked for wanted him alive. Time to wake Lynch. Gabriel reached his other hand beneath their weapons and brought his Double-shot blunderbuss under the assassins chin. He heard a shrill squeal just before pulling the trigger. A gout of flame erupted from the barrel, shattering his attackers face in a plume of gory ribbons and smoke. The weapons thunderclap lit the entire camp for a brief moment, allowing Gabriel to admire the festive display. It reminded him of the fireworks during Emperor Karl Franz' inauguration. That surely would've woke at least some of the men, and this attacker might not have been acting alone.

As Gabriel made his way through the camp to Lynch's tent, he noted several pockets of battle taking place between the sell-swords and more black hooded figures. Several men have already fallen, most likely not being able to match the enemies speed. On the other hand, the two men he had met earlier that evening by the fire were doing rather well. The broken bodies of half a dozen assassins littered the ground around them. The short man moved with a finesse that betrayed his rough unbalanced look, and showed years of battle behind each swing. He taunted and cursed as each of his strikes began to break down his opponents defenses. Gabriel sprinted past them just as another attacker fell under the hatchet that the man had threatened him with.

"It's the bloody ratmen!" he shouted towards Gabriel. "Filthy lil weasels tried to sneak-stick us!" Gabriel's mind reeled. Why would the skaven be here!?

The larger of the two held a pair of the assassins in mid-air, each one's neck collared by his gargantuan fists. They wheezed and clawed furiously at his unrelenting arms. The giant man smiled jovially as the audible crack of both necks could be heard. He tossed their lifeless bodies onto the fire, like a child who was done playing with a couple of rag dolls. He turned to another writhing robed figure on the ground, attempting to crawl away despite having his legs broker. The monster of a man released an inhaled excitedly as he brought one massive boot onto the survivors head.

 _They seemed to be enjoying themselves._

"Hold them off!" Gabriel yelled back at them without slowing. "I'm going to get Lynch".

Gabriel dashed into Lynch's tent, only to find his bedroll empty. They must've wanted him alive too. He turned and bolted back towards the fire. He needed answers, and if he didn't hurry those two might kill them all before he can get them. Something in his peripheral sight caught his attention. On top of a large boulder he could just make out a crouching silhouette, observing the carnage unfold. This one wasn't participating…just watching. Gabriel assumed this must be the leader and shifted direction towards him. Three more assassins emerged from wood line surrounding the camp, rushing to intervene on their master's behalf. He hacked right through the first one, sending its head bouncing into a bush. The second one lunged at him, poising its dual daggers for a downward strike. Gabriel released a fierce kick, catching the monster square in the stomach. It shrieked and fell to its knees, trying desperately to catch its breath just as Gabriel Impaled it through the neck. The third one took advantage of the fact the Gabriel's sword was still stuck inside his accomplice and attacked the man from his side. Gabriel calmly lifted his blunderbuss and sent a torrent of searing metal into its chest, leaving a smoking hole the size of a dinner plate.

He brought one foot onto the shoulder of the limp skaven, now leaning lifelessly on the end of his sword and shoved it back, freeing his weapon. He stalked closer to the boulder, its peaks occupant having not budged in the slightest. The two men from the fire came up behind Gabriel, followed by two of their comrades. The five survivors eyed the figure atop the rock incredulously, still unable to recognize any defining features.

"Shame yer lil ambush failed so soon" the hatchet wielding wild-man taunted. "I was really enjoyin choppin down yer lil friends."

"Who are you!?" barked Gabriel. "And what do you want with Lynch and I?"

"What happened to the boss?" one of the others asked, sounding more curious then concerned.

"Gone" said Gabriel. "I think they took him." He began reloading his gun, never letting his eyes fall from the figure a top the rock. "I think this whole thing was a rouse, just so they could kidnap a few of us."

"What makes you think that?" the man replied. The shaded figure began to show movement. Gabriel slammed his weapons breach shut and took aim, drawing a bead on what would be the things head.

"Because they tried to take me." Gabriel's tightening trigger finger froze, a confused look on his face. It was hard to see from where they stood, but he was barely certain the creature was now standing straight up, like a man. It pulled a small, shiny trinket from a hidden fold within its cloak. It was impossible to see what it was from so far away.

"Well!?" The short man finally barked. "You gunna send that thing to moor or what?" The creature began twisting its hands around the object in opposite directions, making precise turns and rotations. Ox nudged Gabriel firmly on the shoulder. The others started yelling at him to fire. Gabriel was sure of it now; the creature wasn't moving like a normal one of its ratkin.

"Damnit ye blasted dupe!" Harlon was yelling in his face now. "Empty that lead cannon afore it scampers off!" A heavy thud silenced the group. A small, spherical bauble slowly rolled to a stop at their feet. All beside Gabriel loomed over it, who scanned the perch for its owner...he was gone. One of the men plucked the globe out of the mud.

"What in the name of Sigmar…" A steadily increasing whirring noise began to emanate from it. A feint, sickly green glow rapidly increased into near-blinding intensity. The man holding it seemed to be entranced by the spectacle. Gabriel slapped it out of his hand and screamed above its mechanical humming.

"Warpimite!" he pulled his tunic over his face and clasped his hands against the side of his head. "Cover your eyes and ears, now!" The short, stalky man and his massive cohort moved swiftly enough to follow Gabriel's command. The other two were not as agile. A nova of incandescent, emerald light bathed the area in its ghastly hue. A piercing wail screeched through the trees. The two men tried desperately to block their sight and hearing, but it was too late. The sound exploded down their ear canals, filling their heads with the sinister howl of a thousand, indecipherable voices. The blinding glow robbed them of their surroundings, replacing what they knew with visions of terrible things. Things that no man should see in their worst nightmares. Clasping turned to screaming. Screaming turned to mumbling. Soon the two were gouging at their own eyes and began slamming their heads into the hardened earth, hoping to mute the maddening tone that drowned out the world. Then, as abruptly as it started…all was silent and still.

Gabriel, hoping that the warpimite's effect had dissipated, peeked out from his collar. The night was calm and quiet once more. He scanned the area, glad to see his friends from the fire were able to protect themselves. He walked over to the short mans curled up form.

"It's over" Gabriel gave a quick nudge onto the beefy arm of the shorter man, identifying the crest of the Imperial legion. The man shot to his feet with his hatchet at the ready.

"What in the blazes wazzat?" he ranted as he surveyed the area. His gaze fell to the pair of men that hadn't moved fast enough, as still as they ground they bludgeoned themselves with. He walked over to inspect what had happened to them while Gabriel retrieved their gargantuan associate from the ostrich hole he hid his head in.

"What kind of daemon-lovin black magic coulda done this?" he crouched over one of the corpses, noting a bloody smile on its cold, eyeless face.

"It's not black-magic" Gabriel answered from the small crater where the device had detonated. "It's chaos. Pure, unreasonable chaos" Gabriel kicked a piece of the trinkets casing that remained. "It attacks your senses. Severs the chains of reality that bind us to logic, erasing rationality. It doesn't hurt the body, but it rots the mind. Men with the strongest wills tear themselves to pieces, just to get it out. It is said that at their final breath, the feeling of unadulterated happiness washes over them as they expire, free from the madness by way of deaths embrace, hence their final smile." Gabriel spun on his heels and approached the pair of men hurriedly.

"I noticed your arm bore the emblem of the Strider's guild" he asked the shorter man.

"Be mindin what ye say next, lad" the man growled back, a menacing glint in his eye. Gabriel lifted his left sleeve, revealing a similar mark on his bicep. The man inspected it with nothing short of surprise. "A cavalry captain, eh?"

"Aye, a long time ago" Gabriel unfurled his sleeve and began patting down the corpses that lay at their feet. "And I need the help of men I can trust." The other two looked at each other and back at him as he rummaged through blood soaked clothes and soiled pockets. After retrieving a bag of shot and a box of flint from one of the bodies, Gabriel stood back up and stared at the men, awaiting an answer. The short man grunted, spit of the ground at his side and stretched out his arm.

"Name's Harlon" his voice free from the hostility that had coated it since Gabriel first heard him speak. "This one on me side is Ox, a name earned through obvious reasons." Ox whistled a little military ditty and clicked his massive boot heels at attention. Gabriel clasped Harlon's hand, thankful to have help from a pair of former soldier, let alone Striders.

"So" Harlon asked as he tucked away his hatchet. "What's next, Captain?"

The night was cold and silent. The only light that fended of the devouring darkness came from the barn next to the farmstead. Its windows danced with shadows as the mirthful voices of Otto and Kyle could be heard from within. As was their nightly custom, they often spent the late evening hours sharing a bottle of homebrewed shine and swapping tales of various sexual conquests in their younger days with the brigade. Ade rocked back and forth in a hand woven chair on the porch. The glowing end of a cigarette illuminating her eyes as they jumped from scanning the tree-line to the barn, muttering under her breath at its brazen occupants. She lightly patted a long brass rifle that lay across her lap, her other hand tracing along the hammer of its flint lock.

Maria was fast asleep, coddling Mr. Sqweeks; her favorite animal shaped pillow. Marcus lay next to her, his wide eyes staring at the lacquered ceiling beams. If he squinted long enough, he swore he could make out the faded swipes of scorch marks, blotching the entire roof. He shook away the haunting sight, knowing that his father had rebuilt most of the house from the ground up after the fire. He looked over at his sister, wondering if his father thought he had just forgotten everything that happened that night. He wondered if his father felt obligated to recount the tragedy of that night as a bedtime story just to protect his sister from the truth, or did he honestly think he couldn't remember the blood-chilling stare of that monsters beady eyes? After realizing sleep was far from reach, Marcus swung his legs over the side of the bed and stared blankly into the wall. He decided to creep downstairs and rummage through the stores to see if he couldn't find himself a midnight snack. Gently kissing his sister on the forehead, he slipped out into the darkened hallway.

"That's a load of orc dung!" Otto exclaimed, wiping his sleeve across his mouth and passing the bottle of shine over the single lantern on their center table. Kyle grasped the glass neck and promptly brought it to his lips, tipping back a massive gulp.

"Sigmar as my witness, I wouldn't lie about such things" he finished with a slow, deep belch. The sweet, smoky burn of barley and figs crawled up his throat, flushing his face with a tingle. He put the bottle down onto the table and removed a small pouch from his jacket, opening the drawstring and clutching a large clump of tobacco with his index finger and thumb, signifying his imbibing limit being reached. Otto snatched the bottle with a smirk.

"Always was a light-weight" he teased before leaning back and consuming the rest of the bottles contents, repeatedly tossing and catching the empty vessel playfully into the air. "Does the Captain know about this?"

"No" Kyles voice suddenly took on a cautionary tone, as if they were being spied upon. He leaned his face close to the lantern, its ember hue emphasizing the grave features on his face. "And he must NEVER find out".

"Oh aye. I doubt the Captain will be too keen to find out ya been pluggin Lisa in the barn in front of his beloved Skarsbright" Otto slapped his knee with a laugh. The steady growl of distant thunder stole a quick glance out the window from the pair.

"That storm sure is moving with a purpose" Kyle finished the thought with a mouthful of blackened spit sliding down the neck of another empty shine jar. Otto's eyes didn't leave the window. A burst of silver webbed across the sky as another boom of thunder cracked overhead.

"What is it?" Kyle pried. A few moments of silence passed before the storms howling fury lit the room once more. Otto slowly faced his comrade and raised a single calloused finger to his lips, hushing his friend. Kyle nodded and licked his index finger and thumb, maneuvering them into the lanterns interior and snuffing the wick with a feint sizzle. The room went completely dark. Seconds seemed like years. Each breath took a lifetime. They expertly endured, for this was a game they have played many times. Played and won.

The silent burst of white light was their signal to act, immediately turning to face the two intruders that loomed over their shoulders. The pair of skaven squeaked in alarm at being discovered. Kyle jumped from his seat and smashed his head into one of the creatures snouts, the sound of it snapping drowned out by thunder. Not allowing the monster to regain its footing, Kyle finished his lunge by dropping to one knee and smashing his spit bottle into the ground, bursting its round base. Without losing momentum, he sprang up and lodged the splintered glass neck into the skavens throat, driving it with a twist. Kyle stood over the ratmans gurgling form, producing an exaggerated hock of tobacco and phlegm, rocketing it onto the creatures now silent face. He turned to see how his partner fared.

Otto easily stopped the wiry creature from freeing its blade, lifting it into a bear hug and falling squarely onto his stomach, crushing the wind from the ratman with a muffled yelp. He then mounted his struggling would-be assassin and began pounding away with his fists. His large, powerful arms pumped away at their task like muscular pistons, powering the machine of war that was Otto. A maniacal grin grew wider and wider with each splash of vermin blood that sprayed his face. Kyle has seen this grin before. This was the face of shame and hatred. They both felt they should've done more _that_ night. They both felt responsible for allowing these wretched monsters to hurt their captain and his family. After Kyle realized that Otto's fists were no longer connecting with a skaven face, but pounding the sleek, brain smeared floorboards where it once was, he placed a gentle hand on the shoulder of his comrade. Otto finally allowed his arms to slow, tears welling in the corner of his mournful eyes.

"Come, old friend" Kyle said. "This one has long passed into the hell it belongs." Otto's arms fell limp at his sides, the large sinews in his biceps pulsing angrily.

"Not again, Kyle" Otto huffed. "Never again will I allow any pain to fall upon this family."

"Nor I."

The pair stood up and dashed through the barn door, aiming straight for the house. Kyle took the lead.

"So let's go kill the rest of em!"

Marcus could've sworn Lisa hid the sweetrolls in this cupboard. He fumbled around on his hands and knees, his head warily bobbing around cobwebs as his fingers blindly investigated the inside of each pot. As a pile of wheat grains sifted between his fingers, a feint scrabbling noise halted his search. It sounded like it came from the other side of the cabinet wall. He heard a second scratch come from the door behind his feet. He quickly shuffled his legs into the cupboard he was already half in and quietly slid the door closed, leaving the slightest crack to observe. The silence was terrifying. The moon was all but eclipsed by the storm clouds. The occasional flash of lightning reconfigured the feint shadows into a new shapeless figure. He could barely make out the front door leading to the courtyard, and the archway leading to the common room and staircase. He strained his ears against the soft pattering of the rain…nothing. Maybe he was just imagining things. He giggled boyishly from his hiding spot, deciding to enjoy the silhouetted show of dancing shadows a bit longer, until it appeared. A new shadow, low to the ground and directly in front of the door. It was frighteningly still, unlike the others. Then another one appeared next to it. Marcus struggled to mask his breathing. Another lighting flash revealed that the second figure had vanished, and the first cloaked invader was directly in front of the cupboard, red eyes scanning the area above marcus' concealment. Marcus shied behind the cupboard door. Whatever this thing was, it hadn't seen him yet. He cursed his father for having to be gone. The creature was now facing away from him, seemingly sniffing the air with its long snout. It tittered with excitement, as if it could smell something it vastly desired. What could it be looking for?

A scream coming from upstairs nearly caused Marcus to jump. It sounded like Lisa! The monster in front of him glanced toward the stairs and gave out an unmistakable chortle. In a sudden wave of emotion, Marcus' cowardice turned to concern. His fear turned to fury.

 _Maria!_

He rolled out of the cupboard with a roar, grabbing one of the many jars that hid with him and lobbed it at the creature. It hissed and turned to the charging child just in time to have the pot smash into its hooded face. It shrilled and doubled back, clutching at its bleeding face with two wiry clawed hands. Marcus took advantage of the lull and rocketed his foot into the invaders crotch. A second shriek and Marcus had already spun to the monsters rear, simultaneously swiping a carving knife from the counter top. He lunged a stabbing thrust towards its back, but tripped over something. Landing square on his face, Marcus turned over and froze in fear as he saw slender, slinking tail whip back and forth as the creature continued to writhe in agony. What was this thing? The monster finally regained its composure and faced the boy, still laying on his back. Its hood was now pulled back, revealing a twisted merging of man and rat. Its jagged, yellow fangs snarled and snapped. Its tail angrily smashed a group of vases atop the counter as it stalked toward the terrified child. Marcus could feel his heart beat in his throat. It couldn't be…

 _Bedtime stories. House aflame. Quick-quick. Run-run. Fool-fool._

SKAVEN!

Another flash of lighting lit up the kitchen, but this time it was louder. Much louder. He shut his eyes in fright and coiled into a ball. The thunder rumbled through Marcus' body, drowning out the sound of the rain and replacing it with a high-pitched ringing. He tried to move but his nerves were too shaken. He thought of his sister and father as he waited to feel the cold bite of his inevitable death from the ratman. A gnarled grip took hold of his shoulder. He recoiled even tighter.

 _I'm sorry father._

"Get up, boy" Ade's voice was concerned but hurried. "We've no time to hide." Marcus reluctantly opened his eyes. Ade removed her hand from his shoulder and brought it to rest under the still smoking barrel of the rifle tucked in her arm. She stood up and scanned their surroundings. She motioned for Marcus to get up. He stood and glanced at the twitching skaven body on the floor behind her; an oozing crater where one of its red eyes once was. Ade grabbed his wrist and yanked him out of his shock.

"No time to gawk, there'll be more of em" Ade took the lead and cautiously approached the common room. "Are you hurt?" It took Marcus a moment to find his voice.

"No"

"Where is your sister?"

"Still in bed, I think"

They neared the stairs when a yelp echoed from the children's bedroom.

"Maria!" Ade roared up the stairs as she reached the first step. A clawed swipe struck the side of her face and halted her ascent. She spun her rifle towards the hidden attacker and fired. The report railed Marcus' ears for a second time. He clasped his hands over the sides of his head and nearly crumbled to the ground. The shot flew just over the shoulder of the second skaven, smashing into a wall. The skaven hissed and pounced backward, ripping its dagger from under its cloak. Ade smeared her sleeve across the weeping trio of cuts on her cheek, turning her rifle around and raising it by the barrel. She widened her feet and taunted the monster. The ringing in Marcus' ears muted her words, but they didn't seem pleasant. The assassin answered with a lighting quick lunge, blurring its weapon towards Ade's throat. She shifted her weight just short of having her neck opened, and answered with a crushing swing of her rifle buttstock. The ratman easily danced around the attack and struck again, this time from Ade's side. The Montere family nanny may not have served in the imperial army herself, but she had served in the captains home long enough to pick up a few tricks. Not even the likes of Otto and Kyle could do much to dodge a swift slap from an upset Ade. She spun in on the ratman, avoiding impalement and slamming her body into the monster. The skaven braced itself against the impact and opened its maw, attempting to tear the throat from this frustratingly defiant breeder. Ade quickly jammed the length of the rifle barrel into the ratman's jaw. She held fast with both hands, jagged yellow teeth gnawing on steel inches away from her face.

"Run boy!" she huffed. "Get your sister and get outta here!" The skaven began gaining ground. Marcus stared helplessly as Ade was pushed up against the staircase railing. Yet again he felt powerless. The wooden stock of the rifle began to splinter as Ade was lifted off her feet. She struggled to land a kick against the stronger assassin.

"Damnit, Marcus!" she barely managed the words, "Run, NOW!"

Marcus shook the tears from his eyes and sprinted up the steps. His passing of the final steps were met with the lifeless gaze of Lisa, the deep puncture wound in her neck allowing the life to pool around her still face. He closed his eyes and bounded over the body. May Sigmar welcome her.

Maria trembled under her sheets, clutching Mr. Sqweeks as tightly as she could. The monster loomed over her now. It slowly tugged the linen from the terrified child. Maria shut her eyes and began to voicelessly fumble through her prayer. The skaven cooed at the obvious fear it inspired and leaned in to savor it. Its rancid breath washed over Maria's tear-flushed face as it sniffed and lapped its lips with a serpentine motion. It gently placed a clawed hand on the girls head and began to affectionately stroke the mess of tangled locks. Maria attempted to shrink out of reach. As if angering the ratman; the tender patting turned violent as it yanked a handful of Maria's hair and began to pull her off the bed. She gave out a barrage of whimpering sobs but kept her eyes closed. The skaven shrilled with lewd excitement and brought the helpless child to its eye level, inspecting his new prize.

"Hush-hush, runtling" it hissed perversely. "The time to cry-cry is not yet."

Marcus screamed through the doorway with all the rage his little body could muster, empty hands reaching for the assassins back. Maria opened her eyes at hearing her brothers' voice, only to see him careen into the ratmans' other open claw and lifted off the ground much like herself. He twisted and thrashed futilely at the monsters sinewy arm. Maria tried to cry out for her brother, but was chastised into silent pain as the skaven ferociously tightened his grip on her scalp. Marcus stared daggers into the creatures' twisted face, noting the one protruding incisor that poked downward through its quivering, black lips.

"Good-good, young one" Sliverfang hissed in praise. "Much fight-fight you have. The pit will welcome you."

Ade's rifle shook the house for a third time, cracking the air and sending a ball of glowing led thumping into the skavens' chest. It squealed backward, dropping the two children to the floor as it flipped over and disappeared behind Maria's bed. Ade rushed forward and grabbed Maria's hand, simultaneously gesturing for Marcus to get up. A steady crosshair waited for the attacker to reappear from its landing spot, but saw only several streams of greenish, black smoke begin to rise above the bed. She didn't know what they were coming from, but she wasn't going to wait around and find out.

The three scurried down the stairs. Ade kept a watchful eye for any more intruders. Marcus noticed the crumpled body of a skaven lying at the bottom of the steps as they passed. Its face was dawning a lifeless stare towards the ceiling, one jagged claw gripping the haft of its own dagger that stuck up from its chest. A horrifying roar froze the three as they entered the common room, rattling the foundation of their home and hearts alike. The corridor wall in front of them burst inward with terrifying force, causing Ade to turn and cover the children with her arms. She lifted her shielding embrace and quickly inspected them.

"Are you ok? Are you hurt?" her eyes bounced back and forth between Marcus and his sister.

Before they could answer, the shuffle of movement and a heavy groan spun Ade on her heels, rifle aiming at the pile of shifting debris. Maria buried her face into Ade's hip. Marcus slowly stepped back and crouched, feeling about the dead ratman's body for the dagger in its sternum. His fumbling fingers found the handle and he yanked the weapon free with a sucking pop. Ade's aim steadied as the dust settled around the half buried figure amongst the rubble. She squinted through the sights and drew in a breath. She had one shot left, and wasn't going to miss. A fit of low rasping coughs lowered her aim. This was no skaven.

"Damned vile little sewer swine" Otto finished coughing and dusted himself off, reaching down to retrieve his sabre. He looked up to see Marcus, Maria and Ade gawking at him, unable to find their voices. He flashed them a grin.

"The little bastards brought a pet" he explained, just as horrid trunk-like arm rocketed in through the gaping hole and gripped Otto by the legs. The limb was huge and bulging with muscle. Matted grey fur failed to hide the cable-like sinews that tracked along its length. It lead to the four razor tipped digits that had clasped both of the man's legs together and yanked him back outside.

"Get them outta here, Ade!" Otto's voice trailed off as he vanished back through the hole in the side of the house. Ade hastily ushered the children towards the kitchen and stopped at the front door. She quickly began to reload her rifle while spouting instructions.

"Listen, Marcus" she bit open a bag of powder and began pouring it into the reservoir. "When we get out there, we don't stop for anything, ya hear?" Marcus nodded, gripping his sisters trembling hand.

"You hold onto your sister. Never let her go" Ade loaded two more shots and slammed the rifle breach shut. "We head straight for the barn and don't look back."

A ribbon of acrid, greenish smoke slithered over Ade's shoulder and coiled around her neck.

"Anything gets close to you or Maria, you use that without hesitation" Ade nodded towards the skaven dagger in Marcus' hand, unaware of the encroaching smoke. "You get inside the root cellar and bar it shut."

"…Ade" Marcus began to stutter, backing against the door.

"Don't argue with me, boy!"

Marcus pointed a shivering finger towards her neck, now completely enveloped in a squirming green and black tinge. "But, Ade…"

"Hush! Now here's the most important thing; no matter what happens to me, you just keep on running." She placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'll be right behind you. I promise."

"No-no, breeder" Sliverfang hissed from behind Ade. "You will not." The smoke solidified into a wiry claw that pressed its nails into her neck until several crimson dots bloomed on either side. Ade gasped as she was dragged back, allowing her rifle to clang against the stone floor as she helplessly scraped against the Soulthief's grip. Marcus yanked his sister behind him, brandishing the dirk in his free hand. Sliverfangs other arm reached around Ade's hip, lightly dragging a jeweled ebony dagger across her stomach.

"Drop-drop knife, runtling" he barked. "Or I show-spill breeders insides."

Marcus bared his teeth in defiance. He couldn't abandon the closest person he and his sister had to a mother. Ade struggled to speak but was cut short by a quick flex of the skavens fingers around her throat. A single tear slid down her darkened cheek along her jet black braid. Marcus stared at her eyes, wide with terror. He started to lower his weapon.

"Good-good, furless runtling" Sliverfang purred.

Ade cut off the rest of his gloating by slamming her heel down on the ratmans bare foot. He yelped and slackened his grip just enough for Ade to pull his arm down and violently bite down and several of Sliverfang's fingers. A shrill cry pierced their eardrums, but he managed to keep the nanny in his embrace. Ade looked at Marcus just as the dagger sank into her side.

"Run!"

Marcus slammed his eyes shut and spun, swinging the door open and hauling his sister behind him into the night. And not once did he look back.

Gabriel moved briskly through the tall grass. The ivory glow of Mannslieb overhead did little to light his path. The occasional crunch and snap of twigs and other underbrush reminded him that he was a former cavalry Captain, and had spent years on the back of his beloved Skarsbright. He seemed to be a little heavier footed then he recalled. He'll have to lighten his steps if they are to catch their quarry unannounced. He focused on the back of Harlon, taking the outrunner position to the forward right flank of the trail. He paused momentarily and strained his ears. The distant howl of wind sweeping across the plain confirmed his suspicion; his new hatchet wielding companion moved as silently as a breeze amongst the weeds. He had heard of the Striden guilds many talents, the seemingly supernatural ability to 'brushwalk' being the most famous. He still couldn't believe that so gruff an individual could be as soundless as the famed woodland elves.

A heavy finger prodded Gabriel's lower back, drawing a high pitched squawk from the startled man. He turned and was face to face with Ox's towering midsection. The giant man's stomach twitched as he giggled silently, staring down at the dwarfed Captain with a toothless grin. Harlon being able to silently glide amongst the glade was one thing. But a man as large as Ox getting the jump on an experienced combat veteran was in a league of its own. Gabriel offered thanks to Sigmar that they were on his side.

"Will ye two pipe down!" Harlon called back to them with an angry whisper. "Soundin like a pair of 'orny orcs, ye makin so much racket." Gabriel Jogged up to Harlon, trying his best to not make too much noise.

"Are we still following the tracks?"

"Oh aye. Suren the scum that snatched Lenshur aren't too far." Ox's massive head appeared over Gabriel's shoulder, causing the man to jump a second time.

"Will you stop doing that!?" Gabriel reprimanded the jovial giant.

Harlon stopped abruptly and silenced the two with a quick hiss. He raised one meaty hand and motioned for them to slink lower into the grass. The trio dropped to their bellies and wiggled to the crest of a small hill overlooking the next clearing. The tall lanky figure of Eric Lynch could be made out standing alone under the ominous glow of Mannslieb. His arms were crossed with one leg kicked out, tapping a boot in obvious annoyance.

"I'm glad he's ok" Gabriel whispered. "But what the hell is he doing out here?"

"Lookin like 'es waitin" Harlon replied gruffly.

"Waiting? Out here by himself?"

Harlon shifter angrily and spit to his side. "Oh he ain't by 'isself. 'Es waitin for them." He nodded in Lynch's general direction. Gabriel squinted and strained his eyes to their limit, trying desperately to figure out what his companion was talking about. All he could see was a single mercenary, and the shifting shadows of a moonlit night.

"I don't see…"

Ox's massive hand clamped over Gabriel's mouth before he could finish his sentence. Ox locked eyes with the Captain and slowly removed it, pointing a calloused finger through the brush in front of them. Gabriel focused on the spot Ox was emphasizing. Just as he was about to ask what he was looking for, a pair of beady red eyes appeared not 10 feet from them. The dark outline of a crouching figure suddenly appeared, as if from nothing. It was then that Gabriel realized that the ratman had been there the whole time, but remained impossibly still. Not only did this aid it in blending with the darkness, but it allowed Gabriel's eyes to first adjust to the scene with the creature already in position. Several eternal moments passed with neither party daring to breathe. Satisfied it was alone, the skaven soon turned and stalked down towards the clearing. Several other figures emerged from the shadows around Lynch as well, one of them taking position directly in front of the mercenary.

The three watched as the meeting began. The screeching of Eric's shrill voice could barely be heard accompanied by the angry waving of his arms. The cloaked figure stood completely still, weathering the abuse of the irate human with little noticeable reaction.

"Wonder what they're talking about" Gabriel finally broke the silence.

"Bah!" Harlon grunted. "Likely discussin that rat-lover betrayin us."

Several minutes passed before the man seemed to calm down and assume a less aggressive posture amongst his skaven host.

"What kind of leverage could a man have that would allow him to speak to the underfolk with such contempt, and not wind up with his spleen severed?" Gabriel said.

"I'm thinkin there aint any such thing" Harlon replied.

The atmosphere surrounding the meeting drastically changed in mere seconds. Eric Lynch went from flailing angrily to a sort of worried submission, his palms up between him and the skaven leader, who still had yet to move in the slightest. The man stepped back slowly, warily casting fleeting glances to the surrounding figures that gradually moved in on his position.

"They're going to kill him" Gabriel finally spoke, a hint of worry in his voice.

"Aye, I'm bettin they will" Harlon seemed less than concerned. Gabriel attempted to stand, but was held in place by Ox's overpowering grip.

"We have to do something!" Gabriel struggled under the weight of Ox's enormous arm.

"Are ye daft!?" Harlon snapped. "That spineless dog's been plottin against us for Sigmar knows how long. And ye want to rescue 'im!?"

"Traitor or not, he is of the Reik and I will not condemn him to death by the hands of those vile vermin!" Gabriel shouted, kicking his heel up into Ox's groin and shaking free from the giants grip. He shot to his feet, tore his sabre free with a metallic whistle, and charged down the hill.

"Well I'll be a goblin wet-nurse" Harlon watched the Captain run off with more amusement than irritation. Ox was still rolling around in the dirt, cradling his nether parts with both hands.

"I'm really startin ta like this Captain" Harlon sprung up and kicked Ox in the knee. "Geddup ya big baby! We got rat skulls to split!" he laughed maniacally as he chased after Gabriel.

Gabriel risked looking over his shoulder for a moment, glad to see that the pair of striders had decided to join him. It was a risky gamble, but he had long ago established that action, not words, would prompt those two into motion. He's just glad they hadn't just decided to let him run headlong into his death alone. He looked back towards Lynch, not more than several hundred feet now. The leader of the skaven entourage had finally noticed his rapid approach, casting a single baleful glare that pierced straight through the Captains soul. Those menacing eyes. That strangely familiar gaze. This was the creature from the campsite that had attacked with warpimite. Why was this one so much more unnerving than the rest? He shook the penetrating stare from his mind and looked towards Eric. Lynch's head was tilted in confusion.

"Gabriel?" he seemed to mutter, too far from the Captain to be heard. Lynch's eyes suddenly went wide and his spine stiffened. The glint of Mannslieb shimmered off the edge of a crimson coated blade that stuck through his stomach.

"Eric!" Gabriel roared, closing the final distance at a frantic pace.

The skaven holding the dagger tore it free from the wavering mercenary with a titter, allowing his body to slump to the dirt. The leader's sinister eyes never left the charging Captain, even as he came within a daggers throw. Just as Gabriel poised his blade for a decapitating strike, a deluge of blackish-green smoke erupted from beneath the leaders robes and smashed into the faces of the charging companions. Their charge halted as ash and heat snaked into their eyes, ears and mouths. Heavy gasps and coughing were accompanied by the wild swinging of their weapons, attempting to stymie the ethereal assault. Gabriel pushed through with burning tears flooding his vision. He reached where he thought he could see the skaven lord standing, and lunged. His downward strike bit into the mud and sent a shock reverberating up his sword and into his arm. He winced from the pain of his miss. Then suddenly, as quick as it manifested, the smoke was gone. He opened his clear eyes to survey the abandoned grove. The three companion's senses were fully restored and they scanned the limit of the evening's darkness. All that was left in the glade was the three of them, and Lynch's still trembling body. Gabriel rushed to the mercenary's side and knelt, scooping his head up into his arms.

"Eric? Eric!" Gabriel shook the fading mercenary. "Stay with us, you damned fool!"

"Herr…Monte" his screechy voice barely came through the gurgle of blood in his throat. "Good to see they…didn't get you." Harlon and Ox knelt on either sides of the two.

"Ye filthy snake!" Harlon grabbed a fistful of Eric's blood soaked tabbard. "Ye threw us to the wolves, and ye be deservin that hole in yer gut."

"You have no idea…" Lynch erupted into a fit of hacking coughs, expelling blood from mouth and nose alike. "…what you're speaking of."

Gabriel hoisted him up into the sitting position, cutting off Harlon's pointless condemnation.

"What do they want Eric? Why did you deal with the verminkin?"

Eric's eyes began to shudder. A large bulge in his throat prevented further words from leaving his colorless lips. He gulped futilely for breath.

"His lungs are filling with blood" Gabriel quickly deduced. "I need both of your help." Harlon and Ox look at each other dubiously.

"What are ye talkin…" Harlon began.

"Silence!" Gabriel barked in a stern military fashion, cutting off any further question. He lay Lynch flat on his back and grabbed Ox's hands, placing each on Eric's stomach, just below the ribcage.

"When I tell you, I need you to push in and up as hard as you can without crushing him, Ox. Got it?" Ox's eyebrows furled with hesitation. Gabriel released a lightning quick slap to the giant man's cheek.

"That's an order, strider!"

Ox shook the sting from his face and nodded his understanding. Gabriel then motioned for Harlon to grab ahold of Lynch's shoulder opposite of where he sat.

"And as soon as I say, I need you to pull him onto his side so he doesn't choke. Got it Harlon?"

Harlon grunted suspiciously, but nodded nonetheless.

"Okay" Gabriel took position behind Lynch's head, clasping his hands on either side. "Ready?"

Ox and Harlon looked at each other and back at the captain, nodding.

"Okay. Ox now!" Ox pressed firmly, careful to not do anymore damage. Eric's eyes bulged as if they were about to dislodge from his skull. A large swelling worked its way up his chest and into his throat.

"Harlon, now you!"

Harlon heaved Eric onto his side just as he wretched, releasing a torrent of blood gushing from his gaping mouth. Gabriel slowly moved the man's head back to rest on his lap.

"Eric, you with us?"

Lynch's eyes darted around frantically. He sucked in massive breaths without pause.

"Eric, there isn't much time" Gabriel pleaded. "Please, tell me what the skaven want."

Eric looked at Gabriel with sheepish guilt.

"I am sorry, Gabriel. I had no choice." Eric's abdomen twitched and jerked. "They said if I didn't help them, they'd kill me. I am not an honorable man, like you."

"Please, Eric" Gabriel sighed. "What are they after?" Eric heaved and spit a stream of blood down his chin.

"The one you saw. The leader. He must finish his test…He must sever the ties." Eric chortled, fluids already working its way back into his lungs

"What does that mean? Eric!" Gabriel shook Lynch, watching his eyes begin to loll around aimlessly again. "How does he sever the ties!?"

Eric's eyes began to gloss over. Tears streamed down his cheeks and mixed with the scarlet tint that coated his face. Gabriel could see the depth-less woe of shame on his face.

"The…the children." Eric's eyes trailed from the Captains, staring off into the oblivion that welcomed him.

"My children?...Eric, you bastard!" Gabriel violently shook his lifeless body. "WHAT THE HELL DO THEY WANT WITH MY CHILDREN!?"

Harlon placed his hand on Gabriel's shoulder.

"Nuff lad. 'es gone."

Gabriel sat back and tried to process what he had just heard. He looked down and noticed Eric was clenching a small leather pouch in his cold gray hands. He wrested it free and peered inside; empty.

"Captain" Harlon asked. "Shouldn't we be headin fer ye kin?"

Gabriel nodded and retrieved a single gold coin from his coat pocket. He slipped it into the leather pouch, drew the string shut, and placed it back into Eric's hands. He then stood and made for the nearest trail back to the farmstead. Several minutes passed before Harlon's curiosity won him over and he asked Gabriel why he had put a single coin into a dead man's purse. Gabriel explained to him that though the three of them might feel their death hollow without honor, not all men's values were as such. That is no reason to deny a man his final wish upon entering the realm of Morr. Eric Lynch was a mercenary. He fought for coin, and there was no greater shame than to die with an empty purse.

"Shallyah's sister, this thing reeks!" Kyle gagged as he struggled to keep his hands clasped around the front of the rat ogre's massive throat. The beast shook wildly, attempting to cast the troublesome man from his back.

"Gladly switch places with ya!" Otto shouted back, barely ducking a swipe from the monster that would've taken his head. "Maybe if ya didn't drop your sword we'd be done with this thing!" Otto slashed at the beasts knee cap, opening another cut that seemed to only further upset it. Its deafening roar nearly shook Kyle from his perch upon its neck.

"WOULD YOU STOP PISSIN IT OFF!?" Kyle yelled in protest.

"Im tryin to keep if from pluckin you off like a swamp gnat and poppin your arrogant head!" Otto rolled between the creature's legs and hacked at its hamstring, causing it to fall to one massive knee. Otto threw his sword up towards his comrade just as the rat ogre's trunk-like tale smashed into his chest, sending him tumbling across the field. Kyle snatched the weapon out of the air and clambered onto the beasts muscular shoulders. It howled just as Kyle hopped back, allowing his falling weight to drive the sabre down into the rat ogre's neck, severing its cervical vertebrae. The monster's roar fizzled into a whimper as its arms and shoulder's fell slack.

Marcus' soul screamed behind gritting teeth. These monsters have taken the two women who had held their family together. Maria's manic sniffling reminded him that he hadn't lost everyone, and that the night was far from over. He darted across the field, frantically trying to reorient himself in the whirring darkness. He finally caught glimpse of the shed, the path clear. The distant clang of swinging steel stole a hurried glance. He could see Kyle and Otto fighting off a dozen blurring shadows. Otto clutched his bloodied side with one arm, and Kyle wore a large weeping gash across his chest. He slowed his steps and fought with the urge to run to his mentor's aid. As if honing in on his hesitation, Otto bludgeoned a kneeling skaven with the pommel of his sword and shouted across the melee.

"Get your sister out of here now!" his words boomed above the thousand chirps of the ratmen that soon dragged him bellow their scrabbling claws. Marcus blinked away another stream of tears as he abandoned two more of his family, but not before several of the skaven peeled away from the fight and fell in quick pursuit. They were gaining with incredible speed, and Marcus knew they would reach them well before they could reach the shed. Maria looked back in terror as she was pulled along.

"Marcus!" her sobbing giving way to terror. "The monsters are right behind us!"

The sadness and fear that coursed through Marcus' body began to change. His hands continued to tremble, but with rage. His muscles began to tense, but with practiced control. He swung the dagger in his other hand through the air several times, testing the weight of the weapon just like he was taught. He took a deep breath and dug his heels into the dirt, swinging Maria behind him and turning to face their pursuers.

"Close your eyes, Maria" he lifted the skaven blade in a readied stance, calling on the countless painful lessons Otto and Kyle had beaten into him.

"But, Marcus…" her protest cut short by the shrill squeak of the closest ratman, barely a stone's throw away, and with two more of them on its heels.

"Just close your eyes, and pray."

Time seemed to stop as Maria drew in a breath and fell to her knees, tiny hands clasped against her ears. She closed her eyes and pictured her father, holding both of their hands and leading...

"Sigmar praised, please bless this day. Our faith to never break or stray."

Marcus met the leading skaven's charge with unbridled ferocity, causing a squawk of surprise as their weapons careened. The other two ratmen circled around the interlocked pair, moving in from either flank.

"Sigmar praised, please bless these lands. Our strength to guard it with these hands."

Marcus held his position till the very last moment, allowing his knees to buckle under the pressing ratman's weight. It nearly fumbled over the boy as it gathered its footing right to where Marcus once stood, a pincer of warped steel biting into both of its ribs as the other two attackers failed to pull their swings in time.

"Sigmar praised, please bless us here. Our courage true and without fear."

The two remaining skaven chirped in surprise as they pulled their weapons free from their lifeless comrade. Marcus took advantage of their lull in clarity and swiped a fistful of dirt, pelting it into one of the creatures' faces. He then turned and released a wickedly agile back swing, opening the other monsters throat.

"Sigmar please, bless one more thing. Our lives for you, our God, our King."

The final ratman swung wildly as it struggled to regain its sight. A purr of satisfaction rumbled from its throat as it felt its curved dagger sink into flesh. His blurred vision slowly cleared, revealing his pack-mate frozen in shock, its throat gashed and his own blade stuck in its chest. It attempted to pry it free, but not before Marcus appeared behind the bewildered ratman. Marcus folded his forearms around its wiry neck and hoisted back, dragging the flailing skaven to the ground and locking his legs around the monsters waist, rage overflowing.

"For Sigmar!" He wrenched as hard as he could. "For my sister!" The skaven's eyes began to bulge and roll into its skull.

"FOR MY FAMILY!"

The creatures struggling ceased with a crack. Its body fell completely still. Marcus finally released its head and kicked it away before falling back into the dirt. He couldn't breathe. He had never felt so tired. His body burned and ached as if his flesh would tear. He stared helplessly up into the night, as if asking the stars for help. They simply swirled in silence as his vision began to fade. A tiny, beckoning voice echoed and dissipated. The last thing he saw was Maria's sobbing face looming over him…and a tendril of blackish green smoke begin to coil around her neck.

 **Part 3:**

 _The pack mentality._

Marcus lurched up violently out of bed and wretched over the side. His mind was a storm of shattered memories and nightmares, unable to differentiate the two. His swollen muscles thrashed against his skin. He struggled to steady his vision. A deeply familiar voice helped clear the torpor from his senses.

"How are you feeling, son?"

Marcus twisted in his bed to meet the stalwart gaze of his father, a mixture of relief and sadness clouding his eyes.

"Father!" Marcus almost wretched a second time from excitement, though his revel was short-lived. A waterfall of guilt soon fell on him like jagged rain. He immediately turned away and began to sob.

"I'm sorry, father. I couldn't protect her" his words were barely audible beneath the heavy weeping. "I tried, but I was too weak! Lisa, and Ade…" Gabriel cupped a hand around his son's head and pulled him into his chest.

"Hush, boy" Gabriel consoled. "You did all you could. I am so proud of you." Marcus let out a cry into Gabriel's tabard that reminded him how demanding he was of his own son, but how he still just a boy. If times were different, perhaps he could treat him as such, but that was painfully not the case.

"Enough!" Gabriel placed his hands onto Marcus' shoulders and shook him free of his weeping.

"Now is not the time for tears, my son. Now is the time for us to be strong." Marcus looked into his father's commanding eyes and felt his last cry catch hold in his throat. He held back his tears and tried not to cower.

"I need you to be strong, boy. Your sister is out there and we need to get her back." Marcus nodded. "You've done well, but this isn't over. Can I count on you to be a man?"

"Yes, father" Marcus finally spoke. "You can count on me."

"Good" Gabriel stood up and grabbed his sword from against the wall. "We leave at dawn, but for now you rest." He strode towards the door and turned back. "Come downstairs at first light, and we will make ready to depart." Marcus nodded again and laid back in his bed. It wasn't long before he succumbed to exhaustion and was soon snoring. Gabriel remained in the doorway until he was sure his son would not wake for a good while. He quietly closed the door and hurried downstairs. He had no intention of waiting till morning to go after his daughter.

Kyle was dressing Otto's wounds when their captain descended the stairs. What was left of their home stood on shaking legs. The giant hole in the wall left by the rat ogre provided a great view of its monstrous corpse littering their yard. The cloth wrapped body of Lisa lay parallel on a pile of hastily stacked brush and timber, forming a makeshift pyre waiting to be lit. Ade was on a bedroll next to Otto, deep in a wound-sleep. Her injuries were cleaned and bound and her heart still held a beat, though it was dangerously weak. Gabriel placed his hand on Ade's still face. Her natural dark complexion was a ghostly pale and her skin was clammy with sweat. Gabriel had seen many a wound on the combat field, and was more than versed in recognizing which ones left recovery to the gods. He prayed Sigmar to welcome her, should he decide against it.

"Gah!" Otto winced and howled as Kyle dislodged a large piece of a broken skaven dagger from his side. "Not so rough!"

"Oh, quit your squealing" Kyle laughed. "You sound like one of the vermin, perhaps the one who stuck you with this." He tossed the jagged piece of blade onto Otto's lap and handed him a jug of shine. Otto downed a good portion of the bottle and handed it back.

"Ready?" Kyle asked. Otto gave him a tired look.

"Get on with it."

Kyle poured some shine over the still oozing puncture and clasped it with a dry wad of cloth. Otto barely flinched and closed his eyes, taking in several deep breaths as Kyle finished binding the compress. Gabriel watched the two with admiration and approval. He had seen them aid and treat each other's wounds for years, even when they were inflicted by the other. He knew they felt unbearable shame for _that_ night, four winters past. And now with Maria being hauled off by the same monsters, the two could barely meet his eyes since he returned. They feel as though they've failed again and would've been better off bound in sheet and awaiting to enter the realm of Morr with dear Lisa. Nothing could be further from the truth.

"Right then" Otto exhaled, barely able to hoist his beaten body upright. "Shall we go get the little misses?" Kyle, his wounds being the least critical, was already tightening a pack for the pursuit.

"For the last time, you two are to remain here with Ade and Marcus" said Gabriel.

"But, Captain.." Kyle and Otto began to protest but was cut short by the reproaching wave of their captain's hand.

"Without proper care and close watch, Ade shall not survive the night" his tone cut with military gusto. "And Marcus is going to be needing supervision once he realizes I have left without him. I don't need my only son charging off on some reckless attempt at vengeance." Otto and Kyle knew they were past the point of arguing.

"I thank you both for all you have done to protect this family, but now I need you to recover." Gabriel hoisted the pack Kyle had prepared onto his back and clasped his sword to it. "And don't worry, I'll not be alone."

As if on cue, Ox and Harlon appeared in the gaping makeshift doorway and regarded the wounded pair. The ability to recognize a former Imperial soldier was common amongst the more seasoned veterans. Kyle and Otto nodded their approval.

"None to worry, lads" Harlon spoke. "Yer captain is in safe hands." Ox whistled his agreement and lifted his massive open palms. Gabriel gave his most trusted comrades an assuring nod and stepped out into the darkness. Harlon and Ox fell in behind him, but not before Harlon could walk up to the broken corpse of the slain rat ogre. He looked it over and grunted playfully, giving it a quick boot to the skull and turning to Kyle and Otto.

"Nice work, lads" he announced before disappearing into the night.

Maria came to in a sea of muddled senses. She could barely make out the shapes of her surroundings and her ears rang with a sharp, unforgiving tone. The sleeping spell that Sliverfang had cast on her was quite potent, as were its aftereffects. As the numbness in her little fingers began to subside, she felt around for clues that her blurred vision could not provide. She instantly began examining the cold steel rods that interlocked under her seat. Even to a four year old it was undeniably clear that she was in a cage. The ringing in her ears gave way to a chorus of chitters and snorts of indecipherable origins. Her eyesight began to clear and she could see the earthen walls of what she could only assume was a cave. Several dozen ratmen scurried around, exchanging chirps and handing some unknown trinkets back and forth. Among the skaven were several large, green monsters she had never seen before, bullying and snarling at the diminutive ratmen. Maria also noticed that her cage was suspended in the air. Below her was a much larger pen with an open top, full of nightmarish creatures and vicious animals for which she had no words to describe, just a scream as her cage began to lower.

"Thievin git!" shouted Gobstabba. "We orcses aint takin no orda'z from da furries." He enunciated his claim by jabbing a finger into the chest of a robed skaven.

A squawk of anger erupted from three of Sliverfangs bodyguards, raising their weapons at the orc boss. Sliverfang chastised his minions with a chirp and quick swipe of his paw, knocking the greenskin's finger away from him.

"Fool-fool!" Sliverfang's voice shook with anger. "That man-thing runt is worth three times as much warp tokens" he shook the small pouch the orc boss had given him.

"Nuffin is worf more den da uvvers!" Gobstabba puffed up to the soulthief, making sure the rest of his warband could hear him. "All is gits. All is runts. All is meat fo da cage games." Sliverfang decided it was pointless to argue with the orc and stalked back to the makeshift benches. All he really needed was to see if the breeder runt showed the same potential as her brother. She was still young enough to have her soul broken, she need only the will to survive.

Goblins, ratmen and orcs squabbled and wagered, placing bets on which of the pens poor denizens would be first to die. Since this cave was in greenskin territory, Gobstabba's orcs provided the security for the venue. Despite the greenskins healthy hatred for skaven, they were fair in enforcing the house rules, the most important one being 'the only fighting allowed happens in the cages.' The cage that held Maria hung just several feet above the pit. The tiny goblin operating the pulley chittered and threw back a lever. The bottom of the cage swung open and Maria fell the remaining distance to the filth laden floor. She picked herself up and scurried on her knees towards the wall of the pen. She could see several pockets of violence amongst the pits other inhabitants.

Most were scrawny goblin runts and snotlings, attacking their chosen prey in gangs. A small, round creature with sharp teeth bounded around the melee, snapping at anything caught in its way. She saw a small malformed dog-like monster with sharp horns and a lizard's tail charge into several of the goblins, furiously tearing at green flesh. Every time one of them would die, a mixture of hoots and whines would erupt from the audience. Luckily for Maria, it seemed that her entry into the fray went unnoticed by the others. She scanned around for a possible weapon, landing her focus on what looked to be a small white rat-runt, huddled into a corner and being savagely beat by several goblins. It just covered up its face and curled into a ball, taking the brunt of each clawed strike with pain-filled squeaks. Something came over Maria, somethings she had never felt before. Her tears dried within her pursed, furious eyes. She clenched her little fists, wringing the fear from her body. She dashed across the ring, her tiny shrill voice booming over the ambient fracas. The three startled gobbling shrieked and turned just as Maria barreled into them, sending one sailing clear over another. Snotlings were small, and Maria actually held the weight advantage, but they had numbers. She swung a wild fist around, connecting with another one right on its nose. It gripped at its face and scurried away, its cries muffled in bloody hands. One of the goblins bit at her leg, causing Maria to yelp. She began to kick at the monster with her other foot. Its little teeth were dull, but it had the jaw strength of a wild hound. Another of the recovering goblins leapt on her back and clawed at her eyes. She fell to the ground and wrestled with the pair, their struggle attracting more of the tiny goblins from around the cage. It wasn't long before a wave of tiny scrabbling claws broke the little girls resolve. She was going to die.

The skaven runt finally opened its bright pink eyes, wondering why the thrashing he was receiving suddenly ceased. Its spinning vision settled on a pile of goblin runts and Maria's struggling frame beneath them, fighting desperately from her back. Had that _thing_ saved him? Surely not. Since his birth, the albino runt was treated with nothing but persecution and surmounting cruelty. He was beaten and tortured by his own birth kin, an outcast for having been born without a tail. When he found himself being thrown into a cage and lowered into this pen, he knew there was nothing left for him but death. But for the first time, he felt something…different? He did not know what it was but it was something other than pain. He felt something other than the constant fear that had dominated his life thus far. His gaze locked with Maria's, a silent plea emanating from her sapphire eyes. He felt rage.

Sliverfang observed with intrigue as the albino runt waded into the fray, snapping and tearing at the human-runts attackers. Its bright pink eyes turned a piercing hue of crimson as it ripped a bloody trail of goblin viscera to the girl. The skaven runt hovered over her, ferociously slashing at the remaining greenskins that backed away warily. Maria blinked away as much pain as she could and struggled to stand, leaning on the albino verminkin for support.

"Thanks, Mr. Sqweeks" Maria huffed. "I knew you'd keep me safe, just like dad said you would." The albino runt gave her a confused sideways look. It didn't understand what she was saying, but didn't need to. He squeaked and turned back to face the remaining pit monsters. The goblins have been reduced to two faltering snotlings. The round, chomping monster was dead, but the dog-like creature was charging towards them at increasing speed, bounding effortlessly over the broken bodies of its victims.

Sliverfang licked his lips in excitement. Not one, but two possibilities have risen from the gore of tonights cage-games. He watched as the human and skaven runts fended off the dog creature and eventually overwhelm it, protecting each other's flanks and moving in unison. The remaning goblin gits scurried away from the albino runt, but unable to outrun it for long. Both were torn to shreds by white, furless fang and claw. The girl and rat rejoined at the middle of the pen, both wheezing from exhaustion and a dozen wounds. They collapsed near each other, wondering what was to become of them.

"You'z gitz is s'possed to finish each uvva off!" Gobstabba roared over the edge of the ring. "Can't av two winnaz. Only one iz allowed!" Sliverfang had decided that his master would want both of the survivors. It was rare when a runt of any race showed such potential, and delivering two that share this kind of bond would surely buy him much favor with great Lord White-Eyes.

"Wait-wait, oh largest and strongest of orc bosses" Sliverfang cooed, producing a satchel of warp tokens twice as heavy as the one given to him for the girl. "Please, allow me to buy-buy both runts. No fight-fight is left in them. You make twice as much if you sell-sell to Sliverfang." Orc's weren't known for their shrewd haggling abilities, and weren't particular fond of details when it came to a trade. They just knew more was better than less.

"Ok, fur boy" Gobstabba snatched the satchel from Sliverfang's outstretched paw and grunted at one of his armor clad orc guards. "Go get dis ratty 'iz prizes, and 'av da boyz clean up da bitz an pieces dats all ova da pit."

The guttural wail of an orc echoed from the stairway leading to the caves entrance, stealing the attention of all parties present. The heavy thuds of clanking armor descended towards the entry way, growing louder just before the headless body of an orc sentry poured out onto the floor from the staircase. Two more orc guards roared and bounded over the corpse and up the stairs, swords swinging wildly. Gobstabba barked at his henchmen to form a defensive line as the feint sounds of fighting could be heard above them. Sliverfang chittered and screeched at his envoy in gutter-tongue. Several skaven leapt into action and moved towards the pit, intent on jumping in and retrieving their masters' merchandise.

"Where you'z goin, fur boys?" Gobstabba moved to intercept them. "We've gotz fightin to do, and you'z doin it wif us. I ain't avin you'z grab your fleshy bitz and zog off when dere'z killin needz doin." Sliverfang hissed and pulled a small glass vial from his robe, smashing it on the floor. A choking cloud of green smoke instantaneously filled the cave. The orcs began coughing and hacking with their weapons, banging clumsily into each other.

"Kill everyfing dat aint green!" Gobstabba howled, cleaving a skaven skull in half with his heavy orc blade. A deep war cry echoed from the stairs as Harlon and Ox charged through the threshold and into the greenskin defensive line.

Harlon dashed impossibly low to the ground, hacking at orc knee caps in a blur of blood and steel. Half a dozen guards crumbled in howling agony, rapidly set upon and silenced by the remnants of Sliverfangs' envoy. Ox charged through the greenskin ranks with his calloused shoulder, pummeling them with a bestial fury that shocked even the most maniacal of Gobstabbas' boyz. Gabriel came up behind the destructive pair and scanned the scene quickly. Though the smoke was dense, he could barely make out a familiar elegant design adorning the robes of a lone skaven observing the fray. He recalled seeing such intricacies on vermin garb before. _That_ night, four winters past.

"Monster!" he roared absolute persecution. Sliverfang narrowed his eyes in curiosity as the strange man-thing charged towards him. Gabriel gouged the hamstring of a nearby orc as he lunged towards his skaven target. A scrawny goblin scurried to avoid the howling man's warpath, but was far too slow and rewarded with an iron grieved kick to the chin. Sliverfang's whiskers twitched in confusion, effortlessly intercepting the humans' wild cleave with his jeweled ebony dagger. Sparks burst from grinding metal, blessing their ensuing dual. Sliverfangs' slender yet powerful arm began to tremble behind the force of Gabriel's anger. _Who was this human?_

"What's wrong, filthling!?" Gabriel pressed even harder. "Don't remember me?" His tone was shaking with unbridled fury, his pupils swirled with the glossy fusion of rage and tears.

"I've been waiting four long years for this."

Sliverfang strained his snout and leaned into the man's face. His decrepit tongue lapped at his elongated incisor as the familiar smell of burning anguish funneled into his nostrils. Gabriel huffed through gnashing teeth. "Finally, the souls of my wife and son will be put to rest."

"Daddy!" shrieked a tiny voice from over Gabriel's shoulder. He immediately cast aside thoughts of his opponent and rushed over to the makeshift pit in the center of the cavern. Sliverfang felt as if a bolt of warp lighting had struck his skull. This was the den-father of the breeder he had killed all those years ago. The soulthief would've found this most entertaining, if it didn't mean that his prodigy had undeniably failed.

"Maria!" Gabriel slammed into the shoddy railing, nearly doubling over. In the center of the gore matted ditch was his precious daughter, covered in filth and dried blood. He quickly examined the primitive ring, noting the broken bodies of a dozen little creatures surrounding his child. "Hang on sweetheart, I'll get you out of there!" His eyes darted around the cave, looking for a way down towards his child. The skaven eyes Sliverfang had sent to retrieve the runts had honed in on the captain, unwilling to let him steal their master's rightful property. Three of his best guards closed in from all angles. Just adjacent, the captains' companions were heavily embattled within the orc and goblin host.

Sliverfang decided to lean back and watch with excitement as the second show of the evening commenced, and free of charge!

Harlon dashed through the ungainly Goblin Stickaz with unforgiving fluidity. He fell a one with each strike of his hatchet, leaving a majority of the larger enemies for his even larger companion. Ox loved fighting with orcs. Whereas he could incapacitate most enemies with a single blow, orcs usually required a bit more persuasion. Known for their unrivaled bloodlust during battle and even more so by their reckless abandoned, even the Big'Uns of Black Crag were no match for the lifetime of experience that drove the pair of nigh invincible striders. It wasn't long before all that was left of their host was their mail-clad warboss; Gobstabba, and a very relaxed looking Soulthief, lounging within the stands. Gobstabba grunted forward in challenge, clanging his crude scimitar against the gaping goblin effigy cruelly engraved on his shield. Harlon looked at Ox and nodded, who sauntered towards the orc boss, cracking his knuckles and whistling cheerfully.

Gabriel ducked and countered a poisoned overhead strike, back-handing his blade in a skyward arc that opened the ratman from groin to gullet. He rolled towards his flank just as the remaining two skaven bodyguards appeared overhead and landed where the captain once crouched, cruel weaponry plunging into the hardened earth in unison. Ox and Gobstabba had just begun to exchange thunderous blows as Harlon moved towards Sliverfang, hefting his hatchet with a menacing grin.

"Oi, rat-breath!" Harlon barked just as he craned his weapon overhead. "Wee bit early ta be day-dreamin, ye reckon!" He sent the hatched whistling with impossible speed. It blurred towards the soulthief and bit squarely into its hooded face. An abrupt squawk gave Harlon a jolt of short-lived satisfaction before noticing he skaven' black robes fall slack upon the wooden pews. Streams of green smoke slithered from its sleeves before disappearing amongst the suspended roots of the cavernous ceiling.

"Curse ye, daemon!" Harlon shook one ham-sized fist towards the earthen roof. He spat on the ground as he continued forward to retrieve his weapon. A mighty roar echoed throughout the cave and soon fizzled into a gurgle. He wrenched his ax free from the splintered stands and tucked it back within his belt. He turned just in time to catch Gobstabba's gawking head in a juggling manner, warm lifeblood splashing wildly as he struggled to maintain his grip.

"Gah!" Harlon snorted, realizing what exactly his friend had pelted him with. No sooner did his grasp fail before kicking out a stubby leg, sending Ox's new trophy skidding across the dirt. Ox clutched at his sides and collapsed onto the orc boss' still twitching carcass, a fit of silent laughs erupting from his massive frame.

"Quite the jester tonight, aren't ye?" Harlon complained, swinging his gore covered hands to his side before smearing what blood was left onto his trousers.

Gabriel danced with the final of Sliverfang's underlings, exchanging feints and parries with expert precision. He had struck down the first two vermin with relative ease, but this one was different. This one had watched all of the Captains previous movements, and was calculating his own attacks with estimated caution. Despite the decades of experience behind Gabriel's advances, his stamina seems to have waned with his retirement from the legion.

"Quick-quick you are, manthing" the ratman purred. "But I am soon-soon to be Soulthief. Much-much faster is my blade". Gabriel lunged for an impaling strike and was easily battered down by a quick smash to the back of his skull. His face slammed into the ground and he coughed blood and dirt. The sharpened grip of a clawed foot grasped the back of his scalp. Gabriel cursed and struggled beneath the weight of defeat, summoning what strength he had left to overturn the ratman and save his daughter. The skaven chortled and leaned into the Captain's ear, the rot on its breath stinging his eyes.

"Hush-hush, manthing" the skaven brought his dagger to rest around the man's neck. "And remember you were kill-killed by the powerful…" his bosting was cut short by a muffled squeal. Gabriel turned his head from the soil to see the kicking feet of the ratman being hoisted off its perch from his back. Ox's massive hands were clasped around its head, easily covering the skaven's entire skull. An offensive pop sent thick blood and brain matter flowing through the giant's fingers, who lazily discarded the motionless corpse to his side. Ox reached down with an open, gore caked palm, smiling innocently. Gabriel returned a half grin and stood, opting not take hold of the gargantuan dripping hand. Harlon chuckled.

"Reckon 'e likes the sound of em crackin". Ox shrugged his shoulders playfully.

"My daughter!" Gabriel shouted, turning and sprinting towards the pit. Harlon and Ox raced after him. The Captain recklessly hurdled the oaken rail without slowing. He tumbled along the floor level of the gaming pen, with his two comrades shortly following. Maria's eyes lit up with relief, as did Gabriel's heart.

"Daddy!" Maria exclaimed. Gabriel dropped his sword and ran towards his daughter with open arms. Her leg had been wounded deeply and she could barely stand, but she hobbled just as well. Before she could reach her father's embrace, the albino runt leapt from its place in her shadow and between the two, swiping ferociously at the shocked Captain. Its growl was throated and fierce. It flexed its crimson stained talons and clawed at the air in front of him. Gabriel halted in surprise and stepped back, crouching and feeling on the ground behind him for his sword. The runt continued to snarl and posture, all the while eyeing the trio of men that have entered the ring. Harlon shouldered Ox towards the commotion.

"Git the lass while I cleave that scrappy pup." The two stalked forward, closing on the runt. Maria stepped in front of the albino, arms open and unwavering.

"Don't hurt mister Sqweeks!" she shouted with tear filled eyes. Ox reached down to scoop the defiant girl off the ground, but was met with an agile snap of rat fangs on his forearm. He winced and pulled back, shaking the runt free from its grip. It tumbled through the dirt and rolled upright, hastily scurrying back to Maria's side, facing the men once more. Harlon laughed and pulled his hatchet free from his belt loop.

"Big as an elephant, but scared away by a wee mouse". He narrowed his sights on the albino and hoisted his ax for a throw. The runt did not shy away. It merely widened its stance and broadened its covering of the protesting girl.

"Daddy, please!" She begged. "Mr. Sqweeks saved me!"

Gabriel raised his hand, halting Harlon and Ox from further antagonizing the rat. He stepped forward and kneeled, examining every gesture the runt portrayed. Its pink eyes followed the Captain without falter. Gabriel moved his hand close then away, then shifting from side to side. The Captains every motion regaled the runt to mirror and impede, unwilling to expose Maria to any potential danger.

 _Amazing._

"Will ye stop playin with the little demon so we can git!?" Harlon asked wearily.

"It's protecting her" Gabriel's insight twisted his comrade's faces into bafflement. "It thinks they are of the same litter." He gestured toward Maria with an open hand. "Show it I am not trying to hurt you." Maria swallowed hard and stepped in front of the runt, reaching for her father's hand. The Albino's throat began to rumble, but Maria placated it by reaching her other hand to its muzzle and resting her tiny palm on it. It purred and folded its ears back. She looked back at Gabriel, a sunrise of hope lacing her smile.

"He's coming home with us."

Her question sounding strangely like a statement. Gabriel pondered the thought for a bit before reaching his other hand towards Maria, intent of finally holding his daughter. The runt snapped free from its state of ease and glared at the Captain's other, encroaching hand. Gabriel shifted its direction towards the runt, simultaneously stroking both his daughters' hair and the scruffy chin of a much tamer skaven infant. It wrapped its tiny arms around Gabriel's daughter and nestled against her neck, seemingly content that she was at ease. The Captain then scooped both off the soil and made towards the shoddy ladder that led back to the landing above. Harlon scratched his tussled beard and raised a finger in protest.

"Uh, Captain?"

Gabriel didn't bother to break stride. He placed the cuddling pair on his shoulders, cradling their arms around his neck before beginning to negotiate the steps.

"Let's go home."

 **Interlude**

 _There is little in this world that can change the way we view it. From birth to final rest; we are taught the interpretations of those who came before us. Most individuals consider youth as a stage of inability. A time of weakness. I prefer to think of the mind of a child as an instrument of un-abiding truth. Unwavering, all-encompassing truth; free from the contamination of forebears and their less educated perspectives. All living beings evolve, and so must be true of their minds. A child does not judge nor do they assume. They simply live in the moment. They see things for what they are._

 _What I wouldn't give to have retained such purity of sense. Alas, I have grown and so has my ignorance. Is the fate of all to be tainted by an ever haunting past? Looking to the folly of the experiences behind us instead of directing the actions of those before us? The future is yet to come. I pray we avoid clouding it with our mishaps and leave our dust on the trail since traveled._


End file.
